


dime store cowboy

by dark_owl_records



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Castiel and Gabriel are Siblings (Supernatural), Cowboy Castiel, Dean Winchester Has a Cowboy Kink, Flustered Dean Winchester, M/M, Meet-Cute, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Retail Worker Castiel (Supernatural), Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29475738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_owl_records/pseuds/dark_owl_records
Summary: “Are you okay?” Cas asked, trying to not sound too panicked.When the man finally removed his hands and squinted up at him, his face softened with confusion, lips parting. He stared at Cas for a long moment.“Cowboy,” he managed to say, dumbly.“Uh,” Cas responded, equally dumb.---When Gabe gets Cas a job at the local western themed buffet place so that he can actually pay his half of the rent, he didn't think he was going to get stuck on sign spinning duty. Naturally, he sucks at it. So badly, in fact, he manages to knock an unsuspecting bystander on his ass, who, unfortunately, turns out to be very attractive.
Relationships: Castiel & Gabriel (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 121





	dime store cowboy

**Author's Note:**

> yes the title is a reference to kacey musgraves because i love her
> 
> also in this it isn't mentioned but i imagine cas as a post-grad same college as sam and dean as a mechanic both in their mid-twenties

“Wow,” Gabriel said in awe, “you really, and I mean _really_ , suck at this.”

“This isn’t exactly intuitive,” Castiel grated out, “so forgive me if I’m not a natural.”

He held the cardboard awkwardly, turning it around painfully slowly in his hands and wearing grimace that could make a friggin’ cherub want to kill itself. 

“Holy hell, my guy, you need to loosen up!” Gabriel grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him lightly. “Become one with the sign, treat it as an extension of yourself.”

Castiel sighed, shrugging Gabriel off and letting his hands fall. The sign hung pathetically in his grip, bumping against his knees. “This isn’t swordsmanship, Gabe, its _sign spinning_ and, evidently, I’m not very good at it.”

“Not with that attitude you aren’t!” Gabe yanked the battered sign off of him. “Come on, Cas, let me show you how the big boys do it.” 

He took a step back and effortlessly flipped it in his hands a few times before spinning it quickly. Cas squinted at his movements skeptically, struggling to understand how his wrists could possibly do that without significant strain. Then, just to show off, in a fluid motion, Gabe twisted the sign over his shoulder, leaning forward and letting it spin a few rotations on his back, ducking his head. Before it could lose momentum, he brought it over the other shoulder and into his hands again. He finished his display off by throwing the sign up, above his head, and spinning the flat side on its center with his fingertips, like a basketball.

The smug grin he wore almost rivaled Cas’ glare. Almost. 

“This is what I mean,” Cas gestured helplessly, sign still spinning over them. "I don’t understand why this is my job when you’re not only are able to do it, but actually _enjoy_ it.”

Gabe stopped and lowered the sign, offering Cas a look that he could only describe as equal parts sympathetic and sadistic. Only Gabriel could manage looks like that, he thought. The sign was unceremoniously shoved back into Cas’ hands, pushing a little, surprised ‘oof’ out of him.

“My spinning days are behind me, bro. I’ve come a long way to earn my place as ‘immersive atmosphere director,’” Gabe waffled. “You need to be humbled before you can hang with the likes of me.”

“Stop calling it that,” Cas grumbled, “you’re just a glorified server who’s taken too many improv classes and has a Spotify playlist.”

Gabe seemed to slow down, pausing to consider Cas with pursed lips. “You’re lucky I’m so well adjusted, in therapy and shit, or else your words might have really hurt.”

“They were supposed to.”

Gabe pointed to him accusingly. “If you’re trying to get yourself fired, it’s not going to work. I need your ass to pay rent too,” he said. “So, why don’t suck it up and show me what I taught you, Huckleberry.”

Cas frowned. “Huckleberry Finn was not a cowboy.”

“I’m not talking about—” Gabe stopped himself and sighed. He stepped forward and flicked the brim of Cas’ hat. “Look, just shut the fuck up and do the thing so I can get back to work.”

Gritting his teeth, Cas readjusted his grip on the oversized cardboard and readied himself with such a look of intense and misplaced determination that Gabe couldn’t help but feel a little rush of affection for the guy. He flipped the sign a few times awkwardly, but managed not to fumble it, before spinning it a few times carefully and much too slowly. Maybe rotating was a better word. Then, holding it firmly, he shifted his weight back and forth, repeatedly gesturing the pointed end of the sign towards the entrance and spoke entirely flatly. 

“Howdy, y’all. Why don’t you mosey on down to Chuck’s Chuckwagon, the best country western buffet on this side of the Mississippi. They have prices so low, they’ll knock your boots clean off,” Cas recited, completely devoid of emotion.

Gabe hollered, egging him on. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called to him as if he weren’t just a few feet away, “Do it with the accent!” 

“Give me a raise,” Cas said with a cold gaze, flipping the sign a few more times. 

“Okay, forget the accent, you’re doing great without it!” Gabe amended, not changing in tone. “Now, do trick I showed you!”

This made Cas pause, sign coming to a still. “Gabe, I can’t do that.”

“Come on, I believe in you!” he encouraged. “It’s easy, just do it!” 

Cas huffed out a breath of annoyance and, against his better judgment, swung the sign over his shoulder to twist behind this back, just as Gabe had done. Surprisingly, Cas’ technique wasn’t all that bad really, he might have even done a decent job of pulling off a simplified version of the move, but that wasn’t ending up happening. Instead of rolling over his back smoothly, or even at all, the sign halted midair. Cas froze in shock at the feeling—not to mention the sound of Gabe’s horrified gasp, the yelp that emitted from behind him, and worst of all, the smack of hard cardboard connecting with someones face. 

Cas dropped his arm and whipped around just in time to see a man, clutching his head, stumble and fall backward on his ass to the pavement. 

“Oh my god.”

The man was prone, knocked down to his elbows, his feet planted and knees raised. The fall didn’t look that bad, but it didn’t make Cas feel any better. 

“Rule number fucking one of spinning, Cas!” Gabe said frantically. “Be aware of your surroundings and don’t hit potential costumers!”

“You didn’t notice him either!”

“I was too busy being distracted by the circus show you were putting on!”

Cas ignored him, throwing the sign to the side and kneeling over the man. His hands covered his eyes as he rubbed his forehead with a grimace, and let out a small, dazed groan. Cas hovered above him nervously, not wanting to touch him without permission. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, trying to not sound too panicked. 

When the man finally removed his hands and squinted up at him, his face softened with confusion, lips parting. He stared at Cas for a long moment.

“Cowboy,” he managed to say, dumbly. 

“Uh,” Cas responded, equally dumb. 

He was distracted for a moment as it hit him just how attractive the man below him was. His eyes were an earthy green with long, dark lashes. His jaw and cheekbones sharp, with lips that were pink and almost pouty. He was like the perfect image of feminine masculinity that, paired with the dazed way he was looking up at him, made Cas a little dizzy. Maybe it was just the adrenaline. 

He tore his eyes away then, finally processing what the man had said, and looked down at himself—the bandana tied around his neck, a cheap, fringed vest, an oversized belt to hold up his blue jeans, and ill-fitting boots. 

“Yes?” he answered tentatively. 

The man seemed to shake himself a little, blinking a few times, and propped himself up from his elbows. Cas leaned backwards to allow him space as he sat up. 

“Are you okay?” he repeated, earnestly. 

“Yeah, I’m—” the man coughed awkwardly into his hand, avoiding Cas’ eyes and blush rising in his cheeks. “I’m fine.”

Cas deflated in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

Gabe stood over his shoulder, peering down at them and said, “Don’t be so quick to say that, my man. You suffer from a chronic neck pain after this and you could be in for some big bucks.”

“Gabriel!” 

“What?” he asked defensively. “The man could be seriously injured, he should lawyer up.”

“My brother is a lawyer,” said the man, not thinking.

Gabe gestured wildly to him, brows raised. “See? _His brother is a lawyer_ , Cassie.”

The man waved his hands in front of him dismissively, suddenly catching up to the conversation. “No, no, seriously, dude,” he insisted, “I’m fine. It’s my fault for not paying enough attention where I was walking.”

Cas sighed, eyes shutting and pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Gabriel,” he said without looking up, “you’re seriously not helping.”

“You’re right,” Gabe said, “I’ll go get the manager!”

Before the man could protest further, Gabe had turned on his heel and quickly made his way through the swinging doors. “He really doesn’t have to—” he started. 

“He’s not coming back,” Cas reassured. When the man furrowed his brows in response, he sighed and clarified, “He _is_ the manager.”

“Oh,” the man said in understanding, even though he did not understand. 

They just looked at each other for a beat, and Cas was reminded again of how beautiful the man was. He cleared his throat and rushed to his feet, then, offered a hand. The man accepted it and let himself be pulled up, surprised at how strong the other man— _Cas_ , he recalled—was. Cas’ hand was sturdy, and softer than he expected. It felt so right in his, he remembered a moment too late that he was meant to let go of it. 

Cas glanced down at their clasped hands, realising the same thing at the same time. Before he could react, though, the man had dropped his and used it to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. He blushed again, but Cas couldn’t be sure what exactly about this situation was the part he found embarrassing. 

“I’m really sorry,” Cas blurted. “My brother just got me this job. It’s my first day and I’m terrible at it, but I should have been more careful.”

The man didn’t reply immediately. The air hung silently between them for a moment as Cas held his breath, waiting for a response. 

And then, the man blinked and said, “I lied.”

Cas’ mouth fell open, head tilting to one side. “What?”

“My brother isn’t a lawyer,” he admitted, like he wasn’t sure why he was saying it either, “he’s studying pre-law now.”

“Oh.”

The man shot his hand out between them again, suddenly, offering it to Cas. “I’m Dean,” he said, as if that explained things. 

Feeling as though he had lost the ability to judge what was going on, Cas decided to follow Dean’s lead. He took his hand again and shook it. “I’m Cas,” he answered, this time letting go after the appropriate length of time. 

“I like your, uh, look, Cas,” Dean said, gesturing to his costume.

“It’s my uniform,” Cas informed solemnly.

That made Dean laugh, and he seemed to relax a bit. Cas felt a pleasant warmth bloom in his chest at having caused that, even if he didn’t fully understand how. 

“Uh, look,” Dean said, nervous again, eyes flitting away, “this might seem really weird, and I don’t usually do this, but…” He trailed off, grimacing at how lame he sounded, but Cas just watched him curiously.

“But?”

Dean fidgeted with his hands, making an effort to look back at Cas. “I swear this isn’t because I’m concussed and talking crazy, but—”

Cas’ eyes widened in horror and he stepped forward, cutting him off. “Oh, god, I didn’t even check to see if you were concussed.”

Dean laughed again and waved him off. “No, I’m definitely not concussed, I know what it feels like, trust me. It really wasn’t that bad of a hit, mostly just surprised me.”

“Okay, good.” Cas fell back, relieved, and then, remembering he interrupted, added, “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Another soft huff of laughter came from Dean. His smile was so effortlessly charming, Cas felt himself, uncharacteristically, melt a little bit inside. He was so distracted by it, in fact, that he almost entirely missed what Dean said next. 

“What I’m trying to say is, can I have your number?”

Cas came back to reality suddenly, his face scrunching in confusion. He understood the implication of someone asking for your number, but seeing as he just knocked this guy prone, performing what had to be the most embarrassing stunt of his life, all while wearing what was, he suspected, a Party City costume, he found it difficult to believe that’s what Dean intended. So, Castiel, not wanting to embarrass himself any further, hedged his bets.

“For insurance purposes?” he asked weakly.

Dean’s face fell, just for a moment before he smoothed it over with an apologetic smile, but it made Cas’ stomach turn unpleasantly. “Sorry, that was dumb,” he amended, raising his hands and stepping back. “You’re probably not even into guys and you’re at work, so I’ll just…”

“No!” Cas exclaimed, suddenly realising what Dean was saying. He froze, looking as surprised as Cas felt at his outburst. “I mean,” he began again, blushing furiously, “I am. Into guys, that is.”

Dean looked cautiously optimistic and very amused, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh?”

“Yes, you’re very attractive,” Cas admitted because, honestly, he didn’t know what else to say. It’s not like this kind of thing happened a lot.

The embarrassment Cas felt over his clumsy mouth was immediately forgotten when Dean’s widened into a full grin. 

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

Dean hummed thoughtfully and stepped forward with a new confidence that Cas thought suited him very well. This Dean made more sense to him—not that he didn’t like him flustered. He wondered if this what the other man was usually like, not having just been sucker-punched by a sign. “So,” Dean said slowly, reaching out to straighten Cas’ cowboy hat, “does this mean I can have your number?”

Cas swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. “Yes.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, and it sounded like he meant it.

It wasn’t like Cas had never been asked out before, and it wasn’t like he’d never been asked out by an attractive person before. It just wasn’t often that he was so quickly drawn to the other person, feeling as if he might actually like them for whatever reason. He wasn’t sure why he felt it now, with Dean, but he did. On top of that, this had to be probably the strangest social interaction he’d ever had, and he lived with Gabriel, so that wasn’t saying nothing. It all left him feeling very out of his depth.

“And you’re sure you’re not put off at all by the fact that you just saw me fall on my ass like an idiot?” Dean asked, half joking. 

“Not if you’re not put off by the fact that I physically assaulted you,” Cas reasoned, with a smile of his own.

Dean shrugged easily and said, “I guess we’re even, then.” 

He tore his gaze away suddenly, reaching into his jacket pocket like if he didn’t do it now, he would forget, and pulled out his phone. He unlocked it and swiped his thumb a few times before reaching a new contact page and holding it out. Cas took it and entered his digits in quickly, but when he went to hand it back, he found himself hesitating.

“Actually,” Cas said, still holding onto the phone, “are you busy right now?”

That seemed to catch Dean off guard. “Now?” he repeated. 

Cas wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but he pressed on. “I could buy you a drink, as an apology,” he offered. “It only seems fair.”

“At, uh,” Dean glanced at his watch, “3pm?”

Cas faltered, suddenly feeling very self conscious. He hadn’t really thought it all the way though. 

Dean seemed to notice his discomfort. “Coffee?”

“Coffee?” Cas parroted.

Dean licked his lips unconsciously. “I like coffee,” he said simply. “I know great place a few blocks down, if you’re serious.” 

Cas’ entire demeanour changed instantly. “Okay, great!” He grinned in a way that made Dean’s knees feel a little weak, not that he’d ever admit that, and thrust the phone back into his hands. “I just need to go quit my job and I’ll be right back. Wait here,” he instructed. 

With that he turned and rushed back into Chuck’s Chuckwagon, leaving Dean standing alone, with his phone and the discarded sign, to stare after him with a stupid look on his face. 

“Wait, you _what_?” 

And when Cas came back a minute later still wearing the costume, Dean said a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god that might have been listening. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :))
> 
> you can find me on tumblr [here](https://homophobicdean.tumblr.com/) !


End file.
